The Barton-Barnes Almost-Guide to Parenting
by DreamingAngelWolf
Summary: In which Natasha might be in love, Clint cannot cook, and Bucky is the last to know. (teen!Natasha, Modern AU.)


**AN: **Just a tiny thing on what life would be like if Clint and Bucky'd adopted a young Natasha (through Steve, of course, because Steve runs a kid's home in this 'verse). 'Twas a prompt, and said prompt shall appear at the end. Sorry this is so short - I would have gone on further if I'd known how to make it even remotely interesting... :S

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><p><span>The BartonBarnes Almost-Guide to Parenting

Kate didn't normally wink when she dropped Natasha back home from school. In fact, Clint would have missed it entirely if she hadn't whispered "Hey!" first to get his attention (lucky he'd had his aids in that afternoon). She didn't even explain what the wink meant, just left him standing there as she called "Same time tomorrow, Nat," at the teenager before disappearing with a… 'knowing' smirk.

Clint didn't like it one bit. He decided to go back to his arrows. "Any idea what that was about?" he asked Lucky. The dog just looked up at him balefully.

"How was school, Tasha?" he asked as she flung herself over the back of the sofa with a book.

"It was fine."

Clint frowned. That was also new. Normally it was 'same old same old' or 'dull' or 'Tony blew up the science lab again and we had to evacuate because of x dangerous substances floating down the corridor'. 'It was fine' had never before been heard, and he shared an anxious glance with Lucky (who misinterpreted it as the 'have I fed you' look and instantly became alert and excited). "Fine, huh?" Clint asked, going for casual and probably missing by a mile, but he kept his focus on his arrows.

"Yeah." There was a pause, in which he expected nothing more to be said. "When does Bucky get home?"

"In a few hours." Now Clint was concerned. "Why?"

Natasha knelt up on the sofa, draping her arms over the back as she looked at him. "How do you know you're in love with him?"

Clint dropped the arrow in his hands, snatching it up before Lucky got the wrong idea. "Uh, what?"

"How do you know you're in love with Bucky?" she repeated slowly, signing it as well.

"Uh…" Shit. Was this leading up to The Talk? Would he have to tell her about birds and bees and how that didn't exactly apply to him and Bucky because – double shit, how did he explain that with just birds and bees? Could birds and bees even be homose-

"You're overthinking."

He blinked back to reality, met with her impassive expression (that really shouldn't be seen on a thirteen-year-old!). "Well," he began, "I guess we just… knew each other really well? And then I kind of realised – or maybe he realised, I don't know – how much we had in common, and after that I started… missing him, I guess. It was the little things," he concluded. "Just little things that would make me think of him until basically I wanted to –"

"Okay, I get it. It was a gradual thing. But I mean…" She faltered – Natasha actually faltered - and chewed on her lip. "What did it… feel like?"

"… What did what feel like?"

She gave him the perfect flat look. "Falling in love."

Ah. Possibly beginning to see where this was going (not that it made things any easier), Clint gave his answer some serious thought. "Nice," he came up with. She raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed with his choice of word. "I mean, I felt happy with him, y'know? Everything was always better if Bucky was there, and if he wasn't then I wanted to tell him about it. And at the same time, I wanted to know what he'd been up to and he wanted to tell me, and that – knowing that somebody wants to tell you about things just because – feels pretty awesome."

Natasha hummed thoughtfully. "So would you say it was like… this funny pressure in your chest every time you thought of him?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Either that, or I was allergic to him for a while."

"You're hilarious," she deadpanned, then slid off the sofa and joined him at the table. She didn't say anything for the moment, just rubbed Lucky's head where he pushed it imploringly into her lap, and Clint went back to his arrows until she spoke again. "His name's Matt."

This was what Kate had winked about? Clint was about to feel indignant until he realised that Kate was closer to Natasha's age and far cooler than he could ever hope to be in her eyes. She was also a girl, and didn't girl's talk about that kind of thing? Pushing the thoughts aside, he smirked faintly and said, "Matt?"

To his surprise, Natasha's lips twitched, hinting at a smile, and she ducked her gaze. "He's in a few of my classes," she explained, "and… I've been noticing him a bit more than usual."

Clint nodded. "What's he like?"

"He's smart," she said. "Really smart. And kind, too. He likes the underdogs. Which is kind of ironic seeing as everybody picks on him, but he doesn't let that bother him. Or, not on the outside, anyway. And he has a nice smile, and he seems really genuine, and he's kind of cute, and even though he's blind he doesn't let –"

Her abrupt halt made Clint look up. "He doesn't let what?"

Natasha stared at him. "That's it?"

"What's 'it'?"

"I say he's blind and you just…?"

Despite himself, Clint laughed. "Tasha," he said, "I'm deaf and Bucky's an amputee. You really think the fact that you're falling for a blind kid is going to bother us?" His amusement only increased when she flushed almost as red as her hair, and he tried to smother his chuckles quickly for her sake. "Now, you were saying?"

Recovering her train of thought, Natasha continued; "He's blind, but he doesn't let that get in the way of him doing things. And I mean, anything." She grinned. "He's such a daredevil!"

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><p>The two of them had already started making dinner by the time Bucky arrived. He opened the door to the smell of bolognaise sauce, and the sounds of Natasha crying "No, Clint, you can't just dump the pasta in the sauce!"<p>

"Why not? It'd taste as good. Hey!" Clint said, a smile breaking out over his face when he caught sight of Bucky at the door. "Take the helm, Tasha."

"Gladly," she muttered.

"Hey, you," Bucky murmured, receiving a peck on the lips. "Hey Nat."

"Hi Bucky."

"Dinner still edible?"

"Somehow."

"Your lack of faith in my cooking skills hurts," Clint griped, but switched his attention almost immediately to Bucky again. "How was PT?" he asked, looping his arms around his husband's waist.

He didn't look bad – tired maybe, as always, but he was smiling as he said "Good. Better than it has been recently, actually." Sighing, he added, "Still sore though. Not expecting that to change anytime soon."

Clint hummed, stepping close enough that he could speak directly into Bucky's ear; "Bath and full-body massage later?"

Bucky groaned. "You're obscene." Clint laughed, and Bucky pushed him away. "Let me go change. I don't wanna spoil the bolognaise by sweating all over it."

"Didn't need that mental image!" was the indignant cry from the kitchen, and Bucky snickered as he made for the bedroom.

"How are you so good at cooking?" he asked Natasha later over dinner. "This actually tastes like it came from Italy!"

"Aw, thanks Buck," Clint said, yelping as Natasha whacked him on the arm. "It was a joint effort!"

"If by 'joint effort' you mean you causing potential disasters and me constantly averting and salvaging them, then… maybe."

Bucky snorted as Clint pouted into his pasta. "Fine. See if I ever make any of my specials for you and daredevil boy."

"Your 'specials' are special only in that nobody else could ever come up with something so terrible!"

"Ice cream and fries is not –"

"Who's daredevil boy?"

Both of them looked at Bucky, who in turn looked between them curiously. "You wanna tell him Tasha?" Clint suggested.

"Um…" Natasha twirled her fork around her bowl, seemingly engrossed in the way her pasta tangled around the prongs. Slowly, she said, "I might have a crush on a boy at school."

"Really?" Bucky said, face splitting into a grin (Clint was trying to hide his around a too-big forkful of food). "Wait, and his name's Daredevil?" (He promptly began choking on said too-big forkful.)

"No," she said, giving a withering look. "His name's Matt. People call him a daredevil because he does parkour and he's… blind."

"Oh." He processed that, then shrugged. "Makes sense." Clint couldn't help but notice Natasha sag a little in relief. "So when's he coming over?"

She straightened up in an instant. "What?"

"Probably when neither of us are here," Clint chipped in.

"Ah, of course. That old 'my-adoptive-parents-aren't-cool-enough-to-meet-my-daredevil-boyfriend' issue."

"He's not coming over!" Natasha exclaimed.

Clint moaned, "Aw, why not?"

She glanced down at the table, picking up her fork to play with it absentmindedly again. "I haven't, uh… I haven't talked to him very much."

"Well, it's not too late for that," Bucky said. "And you don't have to, y'know, invite him round straight away."

"Yeah, just talk to him," Clint added. "Get to know each other as friends first."

"And don't you dare say 'what if he doesn't like me', Nat," Bucky warned as she opened her mouth. "You are polite, understanding, and a very loyal person. He'd be crazy not to like you."

Gaze averted, Natasha blushed again, and they finished their meal in pleasant silence. It was a few minutes later that she quietly said, "Actually, I was going to say that I was thinking about joining his parkour group."

Clint choked on his last piece of spaghetti as Bucky snorted his drink.

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><p><strong>AN: <strong>Prompt: "*whistles* All I want now is a fic where Bucky and Clint raise a teenage Natasha Romanov (through deaging or saving her as a kid from the red room) and ger and Kate being awesome and just happy family man"

If anyone else wants a prompt, you might have to wait until after Christmas/January; I'm so backlogged on fics it's not even funny anymore :-(


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